Facets of a Dragon
by Phoenix Belfalas
Summary: Six people muse on their feelings for Draco. Warning - Slash, AU, rape, language.
1. Nemesis

Title – Facets of a Dragon

Chapter – One, Nemesis

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Ron Weasley hates Draco Malfoy, but sees something he shouldn't have.

Rating – PG13

Warning – Slash, AU, language

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Authoress' Note – I am a citizen of America, so pardon the spellings if they are not strictly United Kingdom type English… you know, with 'colour' or 'color'…

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

            I hate Draco Malfoy.

            He's a bloody arrogant bastard who thinks he's better than everyone else, with his looks and money and fame.

            I hate how he makes me feel like I'm the dirt underneath his shoes.

            _No need to ask who you are. My father says all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford…_

_What would you know about my comet, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle. I suppose you and your brothers have to save up, twig by twig…_

_            Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose – that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to…_

_            You're in luck, Weasley; Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!_

            Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter. It'd be worth more than his family's whole house…

            You'd never know the Weasley's were pureblooded, the way they behave…

Every insult he has ever said to me rings in my ears loudly, harshly, mocking me.

            I hate him – I hate how he's Head Boy, I hate how he's Slytherin Seeker _and_ Captain, I hate how he's top in Potions and Arithmancy and second in every other class, I hate his cocky smirk and pointed nose and cold silver eyes.

            _Ihatehimhatehimhatehimhatehim…_

            He's got everything – the spoiled asshole – but deserves none of it.

            Why is it that he has the top-of-the-line brooms and fancy clothes and pretty girls hanging off his arm, but I have hand-me-down robes and only get haughty looks from girls like Fleur?

            And so tell me, how would _you_ feel if you were me, and one night, walked into the doorway of your dorm and found Draco Malfoy shagging Harry Potter senseless?

            And Harry is actually _enjoying_ it?

            And Harry is actually _begging_ 'Draco' for more?

            How would you feel if you saw your nemesis place kisses along your best friend's neck and thrust into him like a _lover_?

            And when Malfoy and Harry have climaxed, Malfoy kisses Harry on his forehead gently, wiping away sweat and cleaning their bodies.

            And Harry whispers _I love you_.

            And Malfoy smiles sleepily and says _I love you, Harry._

            And …

            And he looks almost human.

            The next morning, I walk back into the dorm after a night of sleeping in the common room. Harry, alone and already dressed, asks me where I was the night before. 

            I smile tiredly and say that I fell asleep in the common room after Hermione left for her Head Girl dorms.

            Harry sobers and tells me that I should get more sleep.

            I think it's really me who should be telling him that.

            How can Harry forgive Malfoy, after so many insults and fights and malice?

            How can Harry let Malfoy _fuck_ him – don't get me wrong, I have nothing against homosexuality, but _Malfoy_, of all people!

            How can Harry say that he loves Malfoy?

            And how can Malfoy say he loves him too? 

Authoress' Note: The idea came to me when I was viciously spearing a mushroom that I had for dinner… *shrug* Whatever. Don't like at me like that…


	2. Windows

Title – Facets of a Dragon

Chapter – Two, Windows

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Hermione finds something of Draco's, and finds out her windows need cleaning.

Rating – PG13

Warning – Slash, AU, language, rape

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Authoress' Note – I am a citizen of America, so pardon the spellings if they are not strictly United Kingdom type English… you know, with 'colour' or 'color'…

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

            I think, all my life, I have been seeing things through a one-way glass window. 

            I think that, for all my intelligence and cleverness, I am blind to the world.

            I'm a hypocrite as bad as the people I claim to hate, and I didn't know it.

            When Professor McGonagall sent me a letter informing me that I was Head Girl, I was ecstatic. To be proclaimed Head Girl was such an honour for my parents, also. Mum beamed happily and cooked a wonderful dinner that night. Dad was so proud, clapping me on the back, saying, _That's my girl, 'Mione!_

            When I found out Draco Malfoy was Head Boy, I was shocked. For him – the very epitome of evil and Dark itself! – to be proclaimed Head Boy was unbelievable. But I trusted Dumbledore in his decisions and agreed – albeit through gritted teeth – to work with Malfoy throughout the year.

            When a few months had passed since the beginning of term, and I found myself actually _enjoying_ working with Draco, I was confused. He was funny, witty, intelligent, and had a twisted sense of sarcasm. But he was also evil, malicious, and bullying, I reminded myself.

            When I walked into Draco's room, looking for him so we could discuss one of the safety measures on the Forbidden Forest that a Ravenclaw prefect had suggested, I found a book on his bed. I wouldn't have read it under normal circumstances, but I wanted to find evidence that Draco was evil – I wanted to hate him again, because hating him was so much easier than being confused.

            I duplicated the book and left his room.

            I stayed up all night stripping the warding spells off of it and reading it.

            His journal made me realize how much my window needed cleaning.

_October 6, 1991_

_            It's my eleventh birthday today, and Blaise and Pansy threw a wonderful party for me. I felt so happy – the parties weren't as elaborate as the ones Mother and Father hold, but the gifts were just as nice. Father sent me an Invisibility Cloak that one of his associates in Thailand had made – it's beautiful! I heard that Harry Potter has one, also. _

_            I wonder how fun it might have been if we were friends – all of us, all the Gryffindors and Slytherins. I wonder how things might have been if we didn't have masks and façades. _

_            I wonder how it might have been if they weren't so prejudiced._

            I read a few entries, some mundane, some excited, some fuming, but all insightful. Draco wrote about once a month, I found, and had a very abstract, random way of putting out his thoughts – he jotted down whatever came to his mind in flowing, elegant script. His thoughts got more interesting as he got older.

_February 26, 1994_

_            It's strange, you know?_

_            Hufflepuff is the house of loyalty, but I think Slytherins are more loyal than them. We have no one to turn to but ourselves in time of need and friendship, since all the other Houses shun us. We're the most loyal to each other – it's ironic that, in the end, we are the ones who end up being the supposed 'backstabbers'._

_            Ravenclaw is the house of intelligence, but I think Slytherins are smarter than them. We have base instinct and learned strategy; Ravenclaws do everything according to their books. If a Ravenclaw were placed in a viper's nest, they would transfigure a rock into rope, bind the rope into a ladder, and try to avoid being bitten by the snakes as they climb up the ladder. If a Slytherin were placed in a viper's next, they would just kill all the snakes._

_            Gryffindor is the house of bravery, but I think Slytherins have more courage and endurance than any Gryffindor. All of Hogwarts mocks us, but we can hold our heads up high like the aristocrats we are, and ignore them. It takes more strength, my father told me once, to fight your emotional battles, than it does to fight your physical ones. Their bravery is nothing compared to what we have to experience everyday._

_            It's really strange, you know._

            When I saw the entry of April 1996, my eyes nearly popped out from shock.

April 17, 1996 

_            I attended the Order today. Bloody phoenix woke me up at seven this morning – it's a fucking weekend! Father, Mother, and Sev were there, also, strangely. I never knew they were spies. They all seemed surprised to see me, but congratulated me on my decision. I saw Harry, Remus, Sirius, Bill, and Arabella, among others. Was given mission by Dumbledore with parents and Sev to watch V.'s actions more closely. Must go now; V. summoning. Hurts like hell. Blasted mark._

            Draco had the Dark Mark? And he was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix? 

            And Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were _also_ spies?

            And Draco was referring to Harry, Remus, Sirius, and others like they were _friends_?

            I had to lie down for a while.

_December 26, 1996_

_            Was summoned last night, with Sev and Father. Tortured, raped, the usual by V. Sev and Father still fussed. Mother made me sleeping tonic. V. is a bloody fucking sadist, really. Just because he has no sex life doesn't mean he has to rape me on a continual basis. Blaise, Greg, and Vince worried. Pansy and Millicent fretting. Body still bleeding, scratched. Damn Malfoy genes for bruising easily._

_            Harry concerned. He came last night, said I wasn't here. Told him about summons, and heard a concerned lecture for the twelfth time. Or was it eleventh? Not sure if Rem lectured me also, everything a bit fuzzy. Could only do a bit of kissing, no sex last night. Hurt too much. Harry made me go to see Pomfrey. Sev brewed about twenty different kinds of healing potions for me to drink. Still fucking hurts to move, though._

_            I feel dirty and used inside. Oh, well. Received a very suggesting look from Harry at dinner tonight. Maybe will feel better by tomorrow._

            I stayed up all night reading his journal, and I spent the whole week thinking about my windows.

            I decided to talk to Draco.

            After the talk, my window could not only see the sunshine coming through, but also the shadows.

Authoress' Note: 'Sunshine' is the pretty things in life that are easy to see and believe. The 'shadows' are the ugly but true things of life that you don't want to believe, but know are true. I know that Draco's journal entries may seem a bit flippant and nonchalant about his rape and how he feels, but remember – he is a Slytherin, and tends to use sarcasm and wit to ease his pain.


	3. Paradox

Title – Facets of a Dragon

Chapter – Three, Paradox

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Life is full of paradoxes. Draco Malfoy is only one of them.

Rating – PG13

Warning – Slash, AU, language, rape

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Authoress' Note – I am a citizen of America, so pardon the spellings if they are not strictly United Kingdom type English… you know, with 'colour' or 'color'…

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

            Drake's a great kid, really.

            I mean, even though he's a Death Eater and all that, it must take lots of gut to come over to the Light side and act as spy for us, don't you think?

            Now that I think about it, I wonder why Harry, Ron, and Hermione always used to hate him so much.

            Lucius and Snape are still smarmy old bastards, but Drake won't let me say that in front of him or them. Pity he loves them too much.

            Drake is a wonderful kid. Most people just don't see it.

            Drake calls Remus a variety of names – 'Rem', 'Fenris', 'Wolf-man'… but all in good fun. Remus mock-glares at all the names involving 'wolf' in them, but laughs, because Drake is a wolf now, also.

            He calls me 'Siri', strangely. The only other person ever to have done that was Jamie. Oh, James… Remus even calls me 'Sirius', to mock about how _un_serious I am.

            Drake is – 

            Hmm.

            It's hard to find one word to describe him. But if I had to, I think the word would be _paradox_.

            Hell, that's exactly what he is!

            He's living a life of lies and masks, but inside, he's really an afraid young man who doesn't know if his family and friends are going to even live or not.

            He's annoyingly handsome and the wet dream of nearly all kids at Hogwarts, but his life is filled with such ugly pictures – he's told me what You-Know-Who does to him.

            He pretends to hate everyone on the outside, but craves their love.

            Poor kiddo.

            Over sixth year, when I was at Hogwarts acting as Snape's pet dog – so degrading – and Remus was staying for some research, Drake had often visited Snape's rooms.

            At that time, Drake was already a Death Eater, but not a spy. A Death Eater at sixteen – wow. It seems Voldie is recruiting really young now; Drake told Snape his friends Blaise and Pansy were inducted the same day as him.

            He would talk to Snape about becoming a spy, but Snape would always tell him it was too dangerous.

            One day, Snape was out, and I was the only one in the chambers. Drake came in without knocking – like he always does – and took one look at me.

            _You're not a dog, Snuffles._

_            Arf._

_            I mean, why would Sev name his dog _Snuffles_, of all things?_

_            Arf._ I absolutely agree.

_            I've been researching Animagi. I want to become one – a wolf, I think. A panther is nice, also. Very elegant and dangerous. But anyway, I've read about the auras they give off, and I've found I'm quite good at detecting auras. You know, your aura reeks of human, even though you obviously _look_ like a dog. I've come to the conclusion that you must be an Animagus._

Clever boy. _Woof!_

_            Let's see… Who could you be? Someone who Severus knows quite well, for sure, and maybe even one that he hates, from the way he always shoots you death glares. Someone who is friends with Fenris and Potter, because you reek of their odors._

_            Arf, arf!_

_            You must be… Sirius Black._

Clever boy.

            _Why can't I transform, Siri?_

_            I dunno. Maybe you're not picturing and trying to feel yourself as that animal enough, Drake. Try harder!_

He closed his eyes. He'd been researching for months, before he cajoled me to help him become an Animagus. His father had already pulled strings at the Ministry so Drake could become a registered one, even though he was underage. Bloody Malfoys.

            Drake had already done all the meticulous work – theory, spells, and the like. He is a smart boy, really, and could beat Hermione in grades if he would only try hard enough, I think. Since he was a Malfoy, though, and Malfoys always have everything given to them instead of working for it, I doubt he would.

            All that was left was the actual transforming.

            He needed my help on that. I explained to him the feelings of transforming, and how it becomes easier after time.

            His eyes were closed, and I could see his mind trying to convince itself that it was a wolf. Suddenly, he began transforming.

            In the place of Draco Malfoy was now a silver-golden wolf.

            _Strange colour_, was the first thought that came to my mind.

            Now that I think about it, not only is Drake a paradox.

            Everything in the world is a paradox – love and hate and Dark and Light and basically all things on earth, really.

            Life is the greatest one of them all.

Authoress' Note: I wrote this from Siri's point of view because J.K. Rowling decided to kill him off, and I suppose I wanted to say: YOU CAN KILL SIRIUS OFF, FOR ALL I CARE, BUT THAT WON'T STOP ME FROM WRITING ABOUT HIM! Heh. I love Sirius! But not as much as Draco, of course. I think the nicknames they have for each other are very cute. 'Drake', 'Siri', and 'Rem'… lol. 


	4. Angel

Title – Facets of a Dragon

Chapter – Four, Angel

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Draco is a fallen angel, Lucius thinks.

Rating – PG13

Warning – Slash, AU, rape

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Authoress' Note – I am a citizen of America, so pardon the spellings if they are not strictly United Kingdom type English… you know, with 'colour' or 'color'…

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

            Draco is like an angel, with his platinum hair and silver eyes and moonlight pale skin. My fallen angel, I call him.

            My beautiful, beautiful son.

            Draco is my pride, my heir, my world. I would give anything for his happiness.

            I remember how, when Draco was young, he would throw the most terrible tantrums if Narcissa or I weren't home. The house elves were terrified of him at times like those. Only when we came home did he stop shouting, his voice sore, skin flushed. Narcissa swept him up in her arms and soothed him.

            I remember how, when he was six years old, Draco had completed an advanced potion, and Severus was extremely pleased. He had given Draco a small cauldron – aluminum, I believe, and highly versatile. Draco had gone around for the next month working on potions and various concoctions.

            I remember how, at eleven, Draco came home for summer vacation from Hogwarts, and spent a whole week ranting angrily to me about how the Potter boy had become the youngest Seeker in a century, and how all the teachers except Severus favoured the Mudblood Granger.

            I remember how, at sixteen, when Draco received a letter informing him of his becoming Head Boy, he was jubilant. The next day, he was inducted into the Death Eater ranks, and was taken by Lord Voldemort. I vowed from that day on that I would never support a Half-Blood who raped my son, and on that day, Narcissa and I became spies.

            Now, we have a group of about ten or so Inner Circle Death Eaters who are more loyal to the Malfoy family than they are to Voldemort, and are willing to revolt.

            It's a dangerous game we play.

            Draco is dallying with the Potter boy, Severus tells me.

            Oh, for Salazar's sake!

            Since when do an heir of Slytherin and an heir of Gryffindor engage in sexual dalliances with one another?!

            Yes, that's right. An heir of Slytherin and an heir of Gryffindor.

            You honestly didn't think that Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin? He's a half-blood, Merlin's beard! A Muggle father and a mother with tainted blood – how could _he_ be the heir of the mighty Salazar Slytherin?

            The Malfoys, on the other hand, are direct descendants of Slytherin. We have been in Slytherin for as long as there has _been_ a Slytherin.

            And the Potters, of course, are the very epitome of reckless bravery, in other words – stupidity. Their ancestral home – Godric's Hollow – is now much different than it was from when Godric lived there. In those days, it was a sprawling castle. Now, it's a pile of burnt ashes.

            Could Draco have not chosen a more – ahem – _respectable_ partner? I don't mind the fact that he's homosexual, but perhaps he could have chosen someone _better_ than Potter?

            Like that Zabini boy, maybe.

            Oh, well. I'll leave Draco to his own private life.

            I've just come back from a Death Eater meeting.

            Voldemort raped Draco again. I think it's becoming something of a routine to him – torture Draco for as long as you can or until he faints, _Enervate_ him, and then rape him.

            Severus is brewing several healing tonics for Draco. Narcissa is ordering the House Elves around, frantic with worry. I'm sitting by Draco's side, waiting for him to regain consciousness and ask the usual, _Where the hell am I?_

            I'll chuckle softly and remind him not to use expletives, as they are highly unbecoming of Malfoys.

            Severus will come in and administer about twenty different potions on Draco, making sure that the potions are working. Heaven forbid that Severus Snape actually make a potion incorrectly!

            Narcissa will sweep in with food and water, lovely blue eyes wide with worry and concern for her darling dragon.

            It's the same every time.

            Every time he returns from school, Draco looks different. He grows more beautiful, more intelligent.

            More mature.

            More hardened from life and darkness.

            Every time he returns from school, he loses the light that lights up his silver eyes. He loses the life that flickers lightly in his soul.

            He loses his halo, his wings, his light.

            My fallen angel.

Authoress' Note: Okay, something REALLY weird happened, and the original Facets of a Dragon somehow got removed. This is the repost of it, and I'm sorry for all the inconvenience!


End file.
